How It Should Have Been
by cagd
Summary: My 15 year old daughter did not like the sequals to the first "Halloween" movie. This is what we came up with as a response.
1. Chapter 1

_September 30, 1992, somewhere in the middle of flyover country_

 **New place, new friends?**

Nine-year-old Jamie Lloyd, a tall, skinny third grader with brown hair and brown eyes so dark they appeared black, stared out the car window at the never ending corn as it whizzed past..

They were moving.

To Illinois.

Jamie had never been to Illinois.

Her mother, Laurie, pretended Illinois didn't exist, and got real mad when Daddy said that he wanted to move to Illinois from California.

This caused an explosion.

Daddy eventually convinced Mommy that a smaller school and new children would help Jamie socially. That, and moving to a small town would help him avoid another heart attack. Jamie's mom, a criminal trial lawyer for L.A. County, countered with, "Wouldn't it be easier if you just quit smoking?"

Which led to yet another fight.

 _(If Jamie concentrated hard enough between her eyes, she could see a tiny white ball of light that only got brighter as they went.)_

After seeing the picture of the new house waiting for them in Illinois, Jamie looked forward to moving: the girls in her old school hated her for no good reason, boys picked on her, and teachers sent her to the office for things she didn't start. Moving might mean friends and a nicer teacher.

And a puppy. Or maybe, JUST MAYBE, a kitten.

And a real yard to play with whatever it turned out to be in. For all the money her lawyer parents made, Jamie had lived her entire life in a cramped little condo on the sixth floor. A yard would be like a park, only it would be HERS.

And if she could have a pet that wasn't a goldfish, maybe this year Mommy would let her dress up and go trick 'r treating on her birthday, which was, you guessed it, Halloween.

( _No, she won't,_ came the peevish reply from the ever-growing orb. _Trust me on this one_.)


	2. Chapter 2

_October 1st, 1992, Haddonfield, IL_

 **Jamie**

The new house was nice.

Comfy and roomy.

Daddy had a job with the County as a prosecuting attorney (whatever _that_ was).

Mommy decided that it was time she worked for herself and had an office of her own on the town square, a funny place like a park around the big brick courthouse that was full of flower beds and statues of soldiers.

And a cannon. (Exactly _why_ you'd want a _cannon_ in your yard was a mystery that even daddy couldn't explain. But there it was, in a flower bed. Weird.)

Even weirder, everyone knew Jamie's mommy.

 _The light behind Jamie's eyes was now even brighter, words and phrases appearing daily on the new whiteboard in her room - uncle Mikey had a lot to say._

Schoolwise, it was just like back in L.A.: _nobody_ liked her.

Uncle Mikey kept her company though.

 **Laurie**

Humming, absently to herself, Laurie walked upstairs carrying a basket of laundry. Pushing open Jamie's door, she sighed and turned on the light.

Maybe she was just over-reacting. Michael Meyers wasn't the Boogeyman, he was human. Fifteen years ago after cutting a swathe through her friends on Halloween night, the HIghway Patrol found him limping and bleeding along the side of the highway just outside of Haddonfield. From there, he'd been committed to a high-security criminal mental institution with no hope of ever being released.

Folding laundry on Jamie's new pink and purple canopy bed as Jamie played with her Barbies, Laurie gave a nervous smile, she was proud of her little girl, strange tendencies or not. The therapists and child psychologists had told her not to worry, but for both of them to visit often.

And it was time to let Jamie know how things were going to be for a while.

At least until she and Harry got on their feet professionally.

Laurie put down a pair of pink socks, saying, "Jamie, after school, we will be too busy to take care of you."

Jamie looked up, dark eyes staring at her mother, startled.

"But good news, kiddo! I've been talking to a nice girl down the street. She's willing to babysit you - she can't wait to meet you!"

Jamie grinned, showing off the gap between her two front teeth, excited to meet someone new. "What's her name, Mommy?"

"Rachel, she's fifteen. I think you'll love her." Laurie smiled in relief, matching her daughter.

Her strange and unusual daughter.

 **Harold**

Harold paused as he unpacked his study, to look around himself.

What he saw, pleased him: the slower pace of life in Haddonfield would do nicely for him and his family.

L.A. had been exciting, but the stress and the expense was too much. Time to slow down, to get to know people, to take stock.

Resuming his unpacking, Harold picked up an album. Flipping through the pages, he remembered working as a public defender for L.A. County: all business and no play, with too much violence and noise.

As for Cali, for a state that prided itself on it's liberality, it was dangerous for his family; even in the "good districts". Haddonfield, where Laurie grew up, was perfect, and most of all, _safe._

Maybe Jamie would finally make some real friends, losing the creepy imaginary ones. The quiet cul de sac lined with old houses that they'd chosen to live on was filled with playing children, safe from oncoming traffic and crazy homeless people exposing themselves in the middle of the street - paradise

Financially, selling off their condo along with their other L.A. assets and buying an actual HOUSE in flyover country for practically nothing had been a brilliant move. What they'd paid for basic necessities in L.A. was enough to keep them very, very comfortable while Laurie's practice grew. Already she'd a steadily growing pile of minor criminal cases on her desk. Give or take a year or two, and it wouldn't matter if the money from L.A. ran out.

As for the heart attack he'd had last June, he'd given up smoking and was quickly losing weight. Better yet, there were numerous quiet streets to bike to his office in the old brick County courthouse.

And Laurie and her nerves?

Laurie was paranoid for no good reason. Haddonfield was fantastic! There hadn't been a major crime here since '78, almost fifteen years ago. And that crime was probably something stupid like petty theft at the local family hardware store, or some dumb teenagers going too far with a harmless Halloween prank. Combine that with the occasional cow-tipping or harvester joyride, what was not to love?

They would be fine.


	3. Chapter 3

_October 2nd, 1992_

 **Laurie**

Laurie sat in her office across the street from the County courthouse nervously going through Doctor Loomis's files… previously seaked cases and files

on her and... _him._

Revealing that yes indeed, they were _half_ siblings.

Her mother had been married to a career army officer and had two children by him, Judith and Michael before he was killed in 'Nam in '61. Body barely cold, three months later she'd married Laurie's father, a local insurance agent. Nine months after that, she'd given birth to Laurie.

She flipped over a faded photograph. In their Sunday best, she was a baby sitting on her older half brother's lap in one of those cheap K-Mart "family" photos. He looked normal, except for those blankly staring eyes..

Eyes that had stared out at her from behind a cheap latex Halloween mask fifteen years before even as he tried to kill her.

Laurie moaned softly under her breath as what morning traffic there was in downtown Haddonfield compared to L.A. whispered past. Welll on her way to graduate as valedictorian, she'd an okay, if mediocre life, her friends gossiping and giggling with her on the outskirts on their conversations.

Even then, Laurie knew that she was part of the crowd, but not really - after all, Haddonfield being a small town, she was related to more than half the people there - and it would be rude to leave family out.

Family or not, it was like they spoke a language that she couldn't find the rules to in any book in the town library, rendering Laurie and her frumpy crooked skirts and ankle sagging nylons almost but not quite invisible: they would make plans right in front of her for God sakes!

And until Harold Lloyd, Harry, came around halfway through studying Law at Washington University in St. Louis, guys thought she was too smart.

Or weird. Seems that incomprehensible language followed her over the state line and all the way to Law school.

And as for poor Tommy and Lindsey, the two sweet children who had been caught in the middle that horrible night were doubtlessly scarred for life!

Laurie tapped her manicured nails on the wood desk of her new office, having spent most of the past few days unpacking to put off actually dealing with these records.

Her last name her entire life hadn't been Strode, it had been…

Been…

Been _Meyers._

 **Jamie**

Jamie _liked_ Rachel.

Rachel was really, really nice. They made popcorn and played board games, and even played the best game in the whole wide world, hide-and-seek!

Best of all, Rachel was super pretty and gave the best hugs but only when Jamie asked her for a hug. On top of that, Rachel didn't sneak in boys like her babysitter Rosita back in California - ewwwww! Mommy and daddy had walked in on Rosita and that night's boyfriend sucking face on the couch while Jamie sat in the kitchen eating frosting out of the can that mommy kept in the refrigerator and that had been the end of that.

That, and Jamie's oldest friend, the glow behind her eyes that she called Uncle Mikey absolutely hated Rosita too.

"Uncle Mikey, are you mad at me?"

No reply.

The hard, flat light that hid behind her eyes as she sat in her new darkened bedroom, turned it's back on her.

Pointedly.

She sighed. Uncle Mikey liked to sulk and he was good at it. Bored, she turned her attention to her surroundings: she'd never been in such a house.

It was so, so...big! As in two stories and a basement - with a huge, scary furnace lurking in it. While pointing at the hulking brute that sighed in the shadows daddy told her the day they moved in, "NO TOUCHEE!"

The attic was scary. Jamie had no problem obeying this command. The furnace was... scarier.

As was the attic overhead - again, "NO TOUCHEE!" plus something or other about falling through the floor of the attic and hurting herself. That, and it was full of wasps.

Wasps? Stay out? No toucheee? NOOOOOOOOO PROBLEMMMMMMM!

Attic and furnace at a safe distance Jamie sat on her very own window seat on the second floor feeling like a princess as she looked out the window.

Mommy and Daddy didn't think she knew, but after daddy got sick and had to go to the hospital because his heart didn't like him any more, they'd argued a lot about this place back in L.A after she'd gone to bed. Jamie after seeing the picture the realtor had mailed them, had been okay with it. It looked like a castle in a fairy tale compared to their sixth floor condo apartment that overlooked a freeway. Mommy didn't agree. The tiny amount of property they paid monthly rent on was better than this place.

Jamie and Daddy, won.

"Will I ever get to see you, Uncle Mikey?" she whispered, desperate for a reply, eyes following a Cardinal as it hopped from branch outside her window. There weren't any Cardinals back in L.A., or if they were, they had been awfully shy.

The red bird with it's black mask suddenly flew away and Jamie stood up and bridged the gap between the window seat and her new canopy bed. She flopped down on the new purple duvet, staring upwards. Today had been pretty bad. The smelly boy who was too big to be in the third grade had pointed out how much taller than the rest of the kids were. Which was dumb - he was even bigger! And for some even dumber reason, the other kids had laughed at her for being so tall, when he was even taller than SHE was!

Jamie quietly got off of the bed and put her ear to the hardwood floor. Rachel was below in the big living room, doing homework. Something that involved a lot of numbers and lines.

She could hear the house breathing.

She like that noise.

Quiet, calm, peaceful.

Jamie's eyes felt heavy.

 _Get off the floor, it is dirty._

"Oh!" Jamie shot up faster than a roller coaster on tracks greased with butter. "So you are not mad at me?"

Overall grumpiness, Uncle Mikey was back to normal.

Reassured that the world was once again as it should be, Jamie climbed back onto bed. Uncle Mikey was asking for her to read to him from the stack of comic books she kept beside the bed, mostly _Betty and Veronica, Donald Duck,_ and _Caspar the Friendly Ghost._ Though lately, he'd asked her to get some _Sgt. Rock_ or maybe _Sad Sack_ \- he was tired of GIRL comics.

 **Rachel**

Bored, Rachel scratched out a false answer on her algebra worksheet. She genuinely loved children and wanted to be a pediatrician once she graduated and blew the nondescript berg known as "Haddonfield". She loved babysitting the small neighborhoods' kids, or helping new mothers with babies. When her mother had a baby when Rachel was in sixth grade, she was right there to help.

As for career ambitions, her mom, single _again_ , flat out told Rachel that if she wanted to go to medical school, she'd have to pay for it herself - she had six little brothers and sisters and child support barely covered the basics. Anyway, why couldn't she just work a register at Wal-Mart the next town over like her best friend Shawna and get married right after graduation like she had?

It would be soooooo much easier!

That avenue of escape repugnant, scholarships to somewhere, ANYWHERE as long as it wasn't Haddonfield Community College, were the way to go, even if it meant working extra hard on subjects that bored fifteen year old Rachel to tears.

Sighing, Rachel picked up her pencil, and went back to concentrating on on AP algebra, which was followed by a three-page essay on what she wanted to do after graduation due next week, and then tomorrow's history test.

Rachel, halfway through essay, a fast knock-off, paused, thinking about little Jamie's EPIC mom.

Not only had Laurie survived and became the town hero, she'd come back with a family and ready to make her OWN law firm here in HADDONFIELD!

HERE, of all places - and she had a great kid and a husband that wasn't all fat and old early like so many of the men around here once they reached 21!

Rachel absently grabbed the babysitter's note Mrs. Lloyd had left her.

1\. No movies over G.

2\. Nothing scary either.

3\. Don't talk about Halloween or birthdays.

4\. Don't talk about imaginary friends.

5\. When inside the house, lock all doors and windows.

Fair enough Mrs. Lloyd had seen things.


	4. Chapter 4

_October 7th, 1992_

 **Jamie**

School was terrible.

No, it was BEYOND terrible, it was STINKY.

Though Jamie preferred this school, with about a dozen kids in each class over the one at home that was one big chaotic mass of motor mouths and flying elbows, nothing had changed: girls were still mean and boys were still stupid.

 _Uncle Mikey understood, saying to her that the meanest girls would end up with unwanted babies that would keep them up half the night after the stupidist boy that made the baby dumped them._

(Jamie, too young to understand at this point why babies wouldn't be wanted, mentally nodded and carried on.)

Mrs. Lane, her new teacher was very kind and understanding, but seemed, how could she say it... ummm... what was that big word again, Uncle Mikey?

 _Nervous. That is one smart woman._

Everyone, including Mommy, said "Ignore it."

 _Stick nails into her tires. That will teach her._

It wasn't all bad, Jamie would start dance lessons again.

Jamie liked dancing.

 _You suck at it, why bother? Do karate, it's useful._

"Yo, brooooooooom-stiiiiiiiiick!"

"Ow, QUIT!" Jamie hollered from the edge of the playground after lunch. One of the bigger boys, the one that Uncle Mikey really, REALLY didn't like, bounced a rubber ball of the back of Jamie's head, interrupting her train of thought.

Something she really, REALLY hated.

 _Rip that little mother fucker a new one! Do it! Do it!_

"No," Jamie murmured softly, face turned away from the approaching Blandyn, "Uncle Mikey, no - I do not want to go to the Office again!"

 _Suit. Yourself._

"Yo, Broomstick, you talkin' t' y'rself again?" Blandyn (who was too dumb to know that the first part of his name meant "borrrrrrrr-innnggggggg".) swaggered over, thumbs hooked in his front pockets. His back pockets had been ripped out, making a _real_ trailer park swagger all but impossible.

"No." Jamie felt her face get hot. What unwritten rule had she broken THIS time?

Pointlessly mean, in need of a shave, and stupider than Jupiter, Jamie's classmate obviously had been held back a grade or two. Worse, he smoked pot loaded cigarettes outside the already runty K-12 school's overfunded gym with his trashy older brothers every afternoon after lunch - Jamie recognized the smell from the first and last time her parents had taken her to a street carnival in L.A.

 _Uncle Mikey was silent, but she could feel his intense interest in the impending confrontation._

Future pot-belly already hanging over his leather belt, the one with his name on the back, Blandyn attempted to loom over Jamie, who was as tall as he was, saying, "Y'all hear about the Boogeyman of Haddonfield, broooooooom-STICK?"

"Uuumm..." Unable to meet his eyes, or anybody's eyes for that matter, Jamie looked away. What did her gross third cousin want? She'd given him the ball back, why wouldn't he go away and leave her and Uncle Mikey alone?

Blandyn grinned with crooked, yellow teeth. "Like you'd know, _City Girl._ " His breath stank of Cheetos and tuna casserole from lunch.

Jamie gulped, wanting to run away, uncomfortably knotting and unknotting her ever-restless hands. Leave me alone, just leave me alone, I do not like you. You smell like farts and hit people!

 _Butt him in the mouth with your head. It works for me._

"Thirty years ago, cousin Mikey lost it and murdered his sister when he was like, ummmmmm, six. They locked him up in the funny farm, like they should you 'cause you're all ate up in the head - he came back bigger and scarier than before. He killed a bunch'a teens, and disappeared into the night, swearing that he'd be back."

This is s _tupid._ What does this have to do with me? "So..." Jamie asked, genuinely puzzled, "Ummmm... that was a hundred years ago. Why should I be scared?"

"Thirty years, stoooooopid, thirty years! 'Cause he'll come for y'all next. When he does, he's gonna sl-"

"Blandyn, you are very DUMB - he is an old man in a wheelchair with a cane by now - old people do not chase you around trying to kill you!" Jamie exclaimed. Anything over thirty to her was downright _ancient_. The thought of a knife-waving grampy in white baske ball socks, plaid pants, and black shoes trying to kill you while steering a wheelchair and rattling his dentures at the same time was hilarious.

She began to laugh, a long, braying flat metallic laugh.

 _Rude! I am thirty-six. I only let them push me around in a wheelchair because I like to be a pain in the ass._

Blandyn, patter designed to scare the dumb retard of a new girl into peeing her pants unexpectedly derailed, began to flush, starting with his jug ears. "My- my-my DAD went over to his house the night Cousin Mike done came back. When he went up onto the porch, a mean ol' voice tolt him t'get his ass away from the Meyers's house!"

 _That was Loomis. Not me._

(Loomis? Who is Loomis?)

"That is NOT true." Jamie stated, folding her arms. She was finally on solid ground: social cues were hard, facts were easy. "Blandyn Meyers, you are a liar full of poop."

"How do y'all know?" Ears all but bursting into flames, Blandyn got all up in Jamie's face - again trying to dominate her with his near equal to hers height.

"He is my uncle. He told me so." Jamie said confidently. Well, he hadn't, but if it was a lie, Uncle Mikey would have told her because that was how it worked.

Five minutes later, both of them wound up in the office: Jamie's forehead had a perfect impression of Blandyn's gappy front teeth in the middle of her forehead. Blandy was sucking on a bag of ice waiting for the bleeding to stop.

Both sets of parents had been called.

 _This is a good Wednesday._

 **Mrs. Lane**

Mrs. Lane had never seen a child quite like Jamie Lloyd in all her forty years of teaching, except for...

(Best not think about that one. She'd been teaching kindergarten for ten years. After, _him_ , she'd voluntarily moved up to the third grade... she should have seen it coming, but she'd been so busy with the other kids not to notice the red flags the big little boy who sat staring blankly at the back of the classroom...)

Of course there were the usual pranks the kids played on each other this time of year. Jamie probably was bluffing to get that Blandyn off of her back.

Only the big dummy didn't back down. Things had gotten out of hand.

Mouth.

Teeth.

Whatever.

(Asshole!)

Yes, teachers did call some of their students choice words.

Mrs. Lane, seated at her desk, paused mid-thought to watch a harvester followed by a two ton truck spilling over with freshly harvested soy beans rumble past, causing the coffee in the cup in front of her to ripple and dance.

Some things never change, do they? Only this was the last year Mrs. Lane would be teaching anything, mainly because Blandyn, the boy she'd been dealing with for the second or third year in a row, was finally getting to be too much for her.

Add to that a thirteenth child mid-semester, one with special needs, and it was time to go live with her sister in Orlando.

Jamie Lloyd had given Mrs. Lane quite a start on the first day. That face, that hair, those eyes, nearly black, were his.

Michael's

And her height? By the time she reached high school, she'd be taller than most of the boys and doubtlessly would be scouted by any number of women's university basketball teams.

That is, if she didn't turn out even remotely like her, _ahem,_ uncle.

At least Jamie's family recognized that there was a problem and were trying to do something about it. Mrs. Lane knew this because during lunch that first day after pulling Blandyn off of the new girl who'd just sat there crying, she'd gone through her records. There had been an early diagnosis, therapy, dietary changes - an acknowledgement that there was a problem.

And an attempt to do something about it.

(Thank _God_.)

Still, Mr.s Lane felt she needed to keep an eye on Jamie - that business with the "imaginary friend" for starters. She took off her glasses and rubbed her tired eyes, remembering the first parent teacher meeting with Laurie Meyers, no Strode, NO Lloyd, she was married the week before:

"Does what your daughter claim have any truth?" Mrs. Lane had raised an encouraging eyebrow. She remembered having Laurie in class as well, four years after Michael's initial rampage. There had been something there with Laurie as well, that same unwillingness to make eye contact, that tendency to blank out, the social awkwardness that pulled down needless bullying on her head - and an amazing intellect that only needed a little encouragement to come out and play even if her voice had been flatter than Kansas even when she was excited about something.

"Well, um…" Mrs. Lloyd looked uncomfortable. She looked at her daughter, saying. "Jamie. Go sit in the hallway"

Jamie hesitated, looking puzzled Mrs. Lloyd then said firmly, " _Now,_ please. It's important Mrs. Lane and I have some privacy."

At least Mrs. Lane's after school coaching had stuck with Laurie so the kids wouldn't tease her for sounding like a robot in a cheap science fiction movie: she still remembered to use contractions when she spoke.

 **Jamie**

Jamie sat in the hallway outside Mrs. Lane's room talking to Uncle Mikey the evening of the parent teacher conference,

"Uncle Mikey, why did Mommy make me sit outside?"

No real reply.

Jamie absently braided her long black hair. People said she didn't comb it enough. That it was messy. That she was messy.

No. Jamie wasn't messy. She just didn't like the way the comb felt when it went through her hair.

She leaned forward, hair forgotten.

There was a milk crate of whiteboards in the empty classroom across the hall from her.

She jumped down from the chair, walked across the hall, and grabbed a marker and began drawing a clown.

She wanted to be a clown for Halloween, but Mommy wouldn't even let her say 'Halloween'.

Uncle Mikey said this dumb. Clowns are cool. You can hide behind their masks.

And nobody will bother you.

 _I like this. Do another one._ Appeared in the corner of the picture in a childish scrawl.

Jamie liked drawing almost as much as dancing so she obliged. But Uncle Mikey got bored, saying behind her eyes: " _Read to me. The roads are different now. This time read me a map. The one on the bookshelf with all the roads in it._

"Again?" Jamie whined in the echoing classroom, "Maps are borrrrrringgggggg!"

 _Go on. Read it to me. Just don't tell._


	5. Chapter 5

_October 8th, 1992_

 **Laurie**

Laurie's half-brother was studying maps.

Jamie stood beside him, holding his hand.

She'd walked towards them across the endless, gleaming floor of his padded cell as he stood in a slow cascade of falling Illinois road maps, mask weeping blood.

She called their names across the echoing space.

Their heads snapped in her direction.

Smiling, Jamie held out a map of Haddonfield.

It burst into flames.

Laurie sat up gasping, the remnants of nightmare jangling in her head.

Oblivious, Harry snored away beside her.

"This is the third time I've had this nightmare. I've had enough."

She reached over him for the bedside phone and punched in an all too familiar number.

 **Loomis**

Here we go again, Dr. Samuel Loomis thought. When will he have had enough?

The night before's sleep had been interrupted by a panicked telephone call from Laurie Lloyd, a woman he hadn't seen in nearly fifteen years. Loomis's wife was annoyed, but a even a retired psychiatrist can't rest easy at 2 a.m..

The past, he thought to himself as he sat up, doesn't die easy.

"Laurie," he'd said groggily, "I'm too old for this. You're going to ask someone else for help."

"You know my him. You know what he's capable of. Anyway, who else can I talk to?"

Loomis now seated at the dining room table of the beautiful old house that Laurie and her husband had moved into with their China doll of a daughter, who was currently upstairs playing with her favorite babysitter.

"All right. All right, but I'm bad with kids. Do you mind if I call my wife in as a consulting specialist on this case? "

Biting her lower lip, Laurie nodded reluctantly.

"Did you ever tell her about the night the Shape came to Haddonfield?"

"No, no I haven't." Laurie almost blurted out that the real reason she'd called Loomis at two in the morning, but not wanting to appear crazy herself, she fudged, saying, "But somehow she's figured it out - maybe somebody told her at school. You know how kids gossip."

"I see." Loomis glanced down at the gleaming mahogany of the old table. Looking up, he cleared his throat, asking "Who stays with Jamie after school?"

"Rachel, a neighborhood teenager, every day after school until Harold and I come home from work."

"May I question Rachel about Jamie? About, _him?_ " Loomis frowned thoughtfully. "It might be beneficial in the long run."

 **Rachel**

"What's up?"

Rachel sat facing the aging gentleman in front of her while Jamie played upstairs with her mother.

"Has Jamie ever shown any... hostility towards you?"

"Oh, no! Jamie's cool! Then again, I've only babysat her for a few weeks."

Rachel shifted uncomfortably. She studied Dr. Loomis's lined face and silver goatee. Who _was_ this guy? He looked like something out of a movie!

"Why am I being asked all these questions? Am I in trouble?"

"No, no." Loomis absently scratched his beard before writing something down on a yellow notepad. "Lau… JAMIE'S been having terrible nightmares since the move from L.A. We just want to make sure everything's all right."

"Oh." Rachel frowned, fiddling with her pencil. She'd been working on her essay while Jamie and her mom played upstairs (which was weird, Mrs. Lloyd generally didn't get home until 5:30, but she'd told Rachel she could stay and finish off her essay, so she had.) when this strange guy sat down across the table and started asking questions about Jamie. Nothing bad, just unexpected. She said cautiously, tapping the pencil against her notebook. "Dr. Loomis, is Jamie okay?"

Dr. Loomis looked up from his yellow pad and briefly stared into Rachel's narrow face. Then he smiled reassuringly. "Nothing to worry about, dear. Nothing to worry about."


	6. Chapter 6

_October 10th, 1992_

 **Dr. J. Loomis**

Child psychiatrist Dr. Judy Loomis was glad to be back in the swing of things - retiring at the same time as her husband, the other Dr. Loomis (Sam), had been a bad idea. There were only so many Red Hat Society meetings and bird watching lectures she could stand without screaming. She missed the children, she missed the challenges that came with them.

So when Sam asked her to go through the files he had from an old case of his involving two incidents fifteen years apart which barely registered in the national news because there'd been no guns, rich or black people involved, she'd jumped at the chance to put her expertise to work.

But somehow, she sensed Sam wasn't exactly telling her everything.

Despite Judy's misgivings, it was time to do what she did best.

 **Jamie**

"Jamie, would Uncle Mikey talk to me if you asked him nicely?"

Jamie stared at Dr. J. Loomis for a very, _very_ long time.

Finally, a flat reply: "He does not want to."

"And, why's that?" Plump little Dr. J. Loomis tilted her head. She looked like what Hollywood thought a grandma should look like, complete with a bright pink cardigan with bunnies on the pockets, unruly gray curls, and purple glasses on a chain around her neck. "Well, if Uncle Mikey won't talk to me, can you tell me about him?"

Jamie suddenly grinned, showing Dr. J. Loomis the gap in her front teeth.

"Uncle Mikey lives in a place for sad people. But he's not really sad. He likes it there. Nobody bothers him there or calls him a big dumb retard. And they give him bland food. He likes bland food and not being touched."

"I see." Dr. J. Loomis made a note of this, while asking. "Have you ever _met_ Uncle Mikey?"

Eyes looking at everything BUT Dr. J. Loomis, Jamie began to think.

And think and think and think.

Think.

Thank.

Thunk.

"No. I have not." she replied, hoping that this would be over soon. She wanted to play with her Barbies and watch the red bird that hung around outside her window ever since daddy put up a bird feeder.

 **Dr. J. Loomis**

Interesting!

According to the records Sam had shared with her on the ride to Haddonfield, little Jamie Lloyd was a high functioning Asperger's patient all the way down to lack of eye contact and difficulty using contractions. Asperger's was extremely rare in girls if the DSM was to be believed. Professional interest cranked to "stoked", Judy cocked her head, asking, "How do you _know_ he's your uncle?"

"Because, he told me." Dr. J. Loomis felt her expression go from curious to somber as Jamie added. "He does not like to talk - sorry, _doesn't_ (My teacher Mrs. Lane tells me that if I use con… con… conTRACTions, maybe the other kids will not, I mean WON'T tease me so much for sounding like a robot. (Except for cousin Blandy. He's stupider than Jupiter and teases me anyway.)."

Dr. J. Loomis stifled a giggle at the expression, thinking, "...and the mother from what I've seen of her is the same way. She's better at hiding it, though, with years more to observe and imitate so that people will leave her alone…" Intrigued, she casually asked, "How do you talk to Uncle Mikey?"

"Well… There's this thing I guess. A little spot between my eyes that gets bright. The brighter the light, the easier I hear him."

"But how?" Dr. J. Loomis said calmly. What on Earth was the child talking about?

Jamie suddenly looked angry. "Why do you want to know?" she snapped.

"No real reason. What you just told me was interesting. I want to know more." Dr. J. Loomis smiled soothingly; she'd need a second session with the child, no, a third. Changing the subject, she asked, "What about your birthday?"

"October 31st. Daddy says I was born right after lunch and that I looked like a little red hot dog!" Jamie beamed, anger forgotten as soon as it had surfaced. Then her face fell.

"It's on Halloween." she whispered, looking down at her hands as they squirmed on her lap.

Oh, my - how lucky!" Dr. J. Loomis smiled. "Two fantastic things on one day!"

"Not really. Mommy hates Halloween. So we don't celebrate it much. Maybe a present or two, but that's it. I don't get to dress up… AT ALL."

"Well, if you could dress up, what would it be?" Dr. J. Loomis leaned forward, "When _I_ was ten, I was a fairy tale princess - my mother made me a special costume out of pink and white crepe with real gold paper for a crown. She even let me borrow her favorite necklace, the one with big red stones! Would you like to be a princess if your mother let you?"

Jamie abruptly stood, shouting, "A clown! A clown!"

Only something was wrong.

Dr. J. Loomis stared at Jamie, smile now brittle and plastic.

Not at her, but through her.

Jamie turned.

"Tattletale!" had suddenly appeared on the memo board posted on the open kitchen wall behind her in a large, red scrawl that overflowed onto the wall the board hung upon.


	7. Chapter 7

_October 12th, 1992_

 **Michael**

There was nothing new, nothing old, nothing to do in Michael's padded cell.

Except plan, exercise, and remember on a schedule he had made up years before.

 _Which was exactly the way Michael liked it._

 _Only... nine years ago, change bubbled into existence._

 _Change which slowly expanded, opening like a flower._

 _Being the absolute center of the Universe, Michael disliked change._

 _Change meant broken promises._

 _Change meant the timetable of the Universe would be thrown off._

 _Change was to be… eliminated._

 _And the Universe would once again be as it should be._

 _Absolute zero._

Today Michael would go to a different room while heavily sedated.

 _All seven feet and three hundred pounds of Michael hated leaving his cell. It was… change._

Staring vacantly, Michael concentrated on the light behind his eyes so he would be ready to make his move.

The light had gotten brighter in the past few weeks.

 _Time to make things the way they should have been thirty years ago._

 **Loomis**

Closing his eyes, Dr. Loomis put the receiver of the kitchen phone back on the hook.

A former colleague had broken the confidentiality rules and informed him that Myers was to be heavily sedated and moved to a different, more secure wing after his mandatory yearly medical examination.

"No. No, no! This is how it began the last time." Loomis hollered up at the ceiling, "Leave him be… medical necessity be damned!"

Maybe Loomis was being a frightened, silly old fool: there were new medications, new equipment, transporting Michael Myers to a different ward was a risky move, but maybe things would be different this time.

 _But what if they weren't? What if the impossibilities his wife told him after her first session with Jamie were true?_

 _What if the Devil himself got out and came looking for Haddonfield?_

He had to do something. He had to warn the Lloyds. And if it all proved a false alarm?

So much the better!

 _Plans, plans, I have to make plans._

Hands shaking so badly that he nearly dropped the receiver, Dr. Loomis dialed Haddonfield's newest law firm.

Laurie picked up by the second ring. Before she could protest, he broke the bad news before telling her what he had in mind.

 **Jamie**

Uncle Mikey was no longer mad at Jamie for tattling on him.

Instead, he was coming to play. He told her so.

Sitting in a drift of red feathers by the open window and the broken bird feeder, Jamie couldn't wait.

She had so much to tell him!


	8. Chapter 8

_October 25th 1963, 6 Days before Halloween_

 **Michael and Judith**

"Well, well, _well._ If it ain't the Center of the Universe." Judith, Mikey's big sister, drawled down at where he sat on the front steps of their house intently studying a comic book, _Sgt. Rock #83._

It had ads for X-Ray glasses and 500 Army men in their own little footlocker on the back.

What did she want now?

Judith snatched the tattered comic away from Mikey, holding it just out of reach.

Mikey felt one of his "Atomic Tantrums" kindle in his toes and begin to rise towards his knees.

Only this time something was different. Judith called him, "Center of the Universe."

Intrigued, Mikey's, volcanic protest against change quietly subsided before it erupted in screaming and rocking that could last for hours.

His rocking slowing down, Mikey gaped contemplatively up at her from the bottom step.

Judith called him, HIM, the Center of the Universe.

Which made sense.

She continued, "How's it going, _Center of the Universe?_ What's it like to be the reason we can't have company over, _Center of the Universe?_ What's it like to be the reason why we can't have any pets, _Center of the Universe?_ " Obviously hoping for a reaction, Judith held Sgt. Rock higher.

Only her weird little brother, the embarrassing little boy who had to be dragged screaming to the town barber so he looked like a LITTLE GIRL when all the boys and men in town wore their hair short, gaped blankly up at her, rocking back and forth with his arms around his knees, digesting the profound truth spilling from her mouth.

 _That morning, Mrs. Lane, their pretty blonde teacher told them all about the planets, the moons, the sun, and the Universe._

 _Interesting._

 _"Center of the Universe" explained why Mikey felt like the only real person in the world._

 _Obviously feeling this way meant that he was the center of everything._

 _Like the spindle on the record player in the living room he'd taken apart one day, arranging the parts all over the floor in beautiful, beautiful order._

 _Everything spun around the spindle, the hole in the center of the record, and music played._

 _Mikey was the only real thing in the Universe._

 _Which made him the Center._

 _As the Center of the Universe, things had to be balanced, like the record player._

 _Otherwise, the silent music wouldn't play._

 _Balance, order, must be maintained._

 _By Mikey._

 _Finally, a purpose!_

Annoyed that her creepy little brother had blanked out right in front of her, Judith hurled _Sgt. Rock_ into a nearby puddle, screeching, "What's it like to be the reason why we can't have nice things or have parties like everybody else, _oh Great Center of the Universe?"_ as she stormed up the stairs past him and into the house.

Where she started a fight with her mother over why did SHE have to stay home on Halloween night when there was a dance at school and take RETARD Trick-or-Treating while THEY got to go to a party across town?

And slowly rocking, her odd little brother wondered, at the age of six, how as the Center of the Universe, he could keep things balanced…

...and the silent music of the Universe, playing.


	9. Chapter 9

_October 25th, 1992, 6 Days before Halloween_

 **Jamie**

Jamie was uneasy.

She'd been since the move even if it meant _snow_ , a smaller school, and a REAL house, but this was... _different._

And mommy was acting weird. Jamie didn't think mommy knew she noticed, but she did. Mommy jumped every time the phone in the kitchen or bedroom rang.

She'd go around the house every night, testing the locks.

Again, again, and again.

Then she started walking Jamie to school every morning, letting her off at the front door of the school when Jamie really wanted to walk there by herself like the big girl she was.

Only Kindergarten babies had to be walked to school because they might do something dumb like get their head stuck between a porch railing like little Fred Kruger who had to have his head buttered in front of everybody by the fire department or the ultimate in doody-headed stupidity: _get in a car with a stranger._

And after the red bird, there was no more talk about getting Jamie a puppy or a kitten for her birthday as the little light behind her eyes grew brighter and brighter.

Tonight after dinner Jamie sat down on the couch just as mommy turned on the t.v. only to abruptly turn it off when the man on the news told everybody about a masked man who stole a car and the driver's coveralls, leaving him naked on the side of the highway.

The man on the news called him the "Birthday Suit Bandit"

Birthday Suit Bandit? Cool beans!

Jamie giggled as she ran upstairs to her room at the thought of a thief who stole peoples clothes as mommy and daddy argued in the kitchen like they had been all week.

Something told Jamie they thought she didn't notice this, but she did.

She sat down on the little flowered rug beside her canopy bed where she and Rachel had played Barbies after school today, toying with the little red feather that mommy missed with the vacuum cleaner.

At least Rachel wasn't acting weird around her.

Rachel still liked being Jamie's baby sitter.

That is, if Jamie was reading the signals right for once.

 **Laurie**

 _"The fewer people who know about this, the better."_

Still reeling from the latest fight with Harry while Dr. Loomis's voice echoed in her head, Laurie once more checked the mace, the freshly sharpened pocket knife in her handbag and the licensed .22 caliber handgun - all from the hardware store two doors down from her office on the town square.

The same hardware store that had been robbed fifteen years before by… by...

(She couldn't even stand to say his name.)

This time over her staying at the office until six. How could she? They had moved here to have more of a family life. How could they have more family life if she wasn't around the family? What case on her docket in a place where the worst that might happen was a harvester joy ride or a cow-tipping, was so important that she neglect Jamie? (And force him to cook dinner three nights in a row, by the way…)

Laurie couldn't even begin to explain. (And if Harry thought having to heat frozen pizzas for the family three nights in a row by himself was rough, maybe he would be better off not knowing about what may or may not be heading their way.)

She sighed, setting her knitting aside as she called upstairs,"Jamie, come down here for a moment." She glanced up at the big family portrait over the fireplace where her daughter, dark to Laurie's light, sat on Harry's lap.

God, she looked so similar to... _him._

Laurie had found a picture of her older half-brother in among the files Loomis had mailed her last week. Easily mistaken for an adult because of his size, he'd been about twelve, his finely chiseled face (Why did he have to be the attractive one?) blank, topped by messy black hair. A face devoid of emotion, of guilt, showing only the dead interior of his gigantic exterior.

And the Devil's eyes.

Laurie had been two at the time of the… incident.

Having slept through the screams and the sirens, she'd gone to bed the night before with a big half-sister and a big half-brother only to wake up with no explanation of where they'd gone. Later she'd been taken to a strange house along with her clothes and her toys and left there with the aunt and uncle she quickly learned to call "mommy and daddy."

Thirty years later, he was thirty-six. She was thirty-two. And nothing had changed.

"Mommy?" Jamie stood in front of Laurie where she sat on the couch, knitting off to one side, "Am I in trouble again?"

"No, baby, you're not. I just wanted to talk to you about something. Something important." Laurie held out her arms. Though she now overflowed whatever lap she sat on, Jamie climbed aboard, Laurie unable to say what needed saying.

Finally Jamie broke the silence: "Mommy, how come I do not have an abuelita?"

"Yes you do, Abuelita Lloyd." Harry's mother was originally from Ixtapa, but she'd married blonde blue-eyed Señor Lloyd (as the pepperly but highly formal little old lady insisted they call the tall man in the wedding portrait beside her favorite chair in her little parlor) a businessman from L.A. in the 1960s. Harry had inherited her dark hair and eyes, passing them along to Jamie - something that Abuelita Lloyd was very, very proud of. "My _nieta_ , my granddaughter, she will be the most beautiful girl in the world some day!"

"I know that. How come I don't have an abuelita that is _your_ mommy? Or a señor like Senior Lloyd?"Distracted from what she dreaded to tell Jamie, Laurie searched for an answer.

"Well," she said into Jamie's thick, dark hair. "When I was a little girl, my parents couldn't take care of me so I got to live with my aunt and uncle. They couldn't have children, so they were very glad to have me instead."

"Oh." Laurie could almost hear the gears clicking and whirring in Jamie's head as she digested this.

She continued, trying to keep it simple. "When I was older, I wanted to move back in with my real mommy and daddy. But mommy had died of cancer and daddy had a new family and no room for me." Close enough for a nine-year-old going on ten. She'd explain the whole thing, Mikey, Judith, the ugly divorce, to Jamie when she was older if the subject ever came up again. Laurie sighed, collecting her thoughts before saying, "That was when I decided that once I was old enough to leave and never return to Haddonfield. My aunt and uncle have retired and moved to Florida. Some day we'll go to Disney World and we will meet them."

"Oh. But what about your real parents? What happened to them."

 _No. I'm not ready to explain this, not now._

Laurie sighed, putting her, arms around her precious, precocious child, and lied: "I don't know."


	10. Chapter 10

_October 26th, 1992, 4 Days Until Halloween_

 **Blandly**

Blandy ditched recess like always, heading towards the stinking dumpster behind the cafeteria where his older brothers always gathered to cop a loaded smoke, slithering through his favorite gap in the playground fence and straight into a wall.

A blue wall.

Blue... coveralls?

He froze as a very, very large hand clamped down on one of his shoulders.

Blandy looked up.

And up.

And up.

And up.

Damn, big ol' boy here must be in the NBA!

Blandy's eyes finally reached the big man's face.

NO!

Squealing, Blandy struggled, landing on his butt in the mud.

Free, he tore right for Mrs. Lane (wherever she was), faster than he'd ever tore before, looking like he'd shit his pants, squealing, "The Boogeyman! The Boogeyman!"

 **Jamie**

Today the bright light between her eyes was almost blinding. Was Uncle Mikey here?

Seated across the dining room from the studying Rachel, Jamie thoughtfully put down her red crayon. It immediately rolled off the dining room table and onto the floor beside her. Today had been a good day: she finally tied her shoes by herself, and cousin Blandly ran away from her since she head-butted him in the mouth in front of the other kids on the playground and the other kids laughed at him for getting beat up by a G.I.R.L.

 _You should have done that sooner. Now the Universe is almost balanced._

Jamie retrieved her crayon and resumed coloring in the apple that Snow White was taking from the Wicked Witch who was really the Wicked Stepmother. It had taken Jamie her best, most persistent nagging skills, and mommy FINALLY gave in: she could Trick or Treat this year on her birthday FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER!.

(She even got to pick out her own costume at the hardware store: a clown!)

 _I like clowns._ Was Uncle Mikey's reply when she showed him her costume. _Clowns are useful._

 **Laurie**

The Illinois State Policed still hadn't managed to catch him.

"Tell no one."

 _The Birthday Suit Bandit was real._

"Tell no one."

 _The Boogeyman of Haddonfield, was real._

"Tell no one."

 _And he was headed her way._

Terrified of and for her child, Laurie hung up her office phone, praying that Loomis was right in using her daughter as bait and as a way to figure out why Michael was, well, Michael.

The worst part was that Jamie didn't even know the danger she was in.

Laurie pulled a file out of her filing cabinet from 1978 that she'd had sent over from the County Records Division, and laid it and its contents on the top of her desk.

She frowned, mentally digesting the information fanned out before her. If Michael Myers, the Boogeyman of Haddonfield revealed himself as predicted and stuck to the pattern he'd established the last time he came to Haddonfield, it would start with burglary and end with bloodshed.

Laurie no longer felt comfortable with just Rachel watching Jamie after school before she and Harry came home for the day.

Could they afford to get a full burglar alarm system installed at such short notice?

If so, how could she convince Harry that the expense was necessary in this backwater County seat where the worst crime in the last three months was one of her fourth cousins setting fire to one of her second cousin's hay barn because one had caught the other with his girlfriend (a third cousin) while one of her first cousins stole his truck? (Only to be arrested by yet another third cousin of hers, a sheriff's deputy who lived across the street from the Lloyd house - who recognized the truck parked out in front of still another first cousin's bar, "The Dew Drop Inn" a barely legal dive just outside Haddonfield city limits.)

And as for Rachel, Rachel was a good girl, much like Laurie had been at that age - only with better "people skills". Seeing what happened to her two best friends and cousins that horrible, horrible Halloween night fifteen years before, should she close her office early and send Rachel home before sundown on Halloween night? She had a big out of County case to deal with. It might keep her out late… they needed the money… Oh GOD! Rules be damned, why couldn't they have let Michael stay in his cell?


	11. Chapter 11

_October 27, 1992, Four More Days Until Halloween_

 **Jamie**

Eluding Rachel, who was _supposed_ to walk her home from school, Jamie ran for no real reason towards the empty old house two blocks from her house, the hood of her new red windbreaker bouncing up and down against her back in time to her steps.

She slowed, stopping where the cracked and overgrown sidewalk that came from it's sagging front porch met the neat, new concrete one that everybody used, and turned to face the house, oblivious to the slow, silent drift of red Maple leaves falling around her..

The house that mommy told her to stay away from glowed red in the early Autumn sunset.

The house that felt cold and sad no matter what time of day it was.

The house that nobody but Jamie seemed to see.

Suddenly Jamie felt as if all the energy in her 9.999999 year-old body had been sucked out of her as she stared up at the cracked upper story windows which reflected the red, cloudless sky overhead like a mirror.

It was as if the old house was staring back at her.

Wait! Jamie squinted. Was that a face in the corner window looking down at her?

A shadowy face, stained red by the dying sun.

The face vanished, and then reappeared in a different window … who? Without thinking, Jamie stepped off of the new concrete and onto the weedy, cracked concrete and it's drifts of fallen leaves towards the derelict house that loomed over her, chocolate brown eyes fixed on the window that looked back at her..."Jamie, no!"

Rachel grabbed Jamie by the hand and began dragging her protesting back onto the new sidewalk, the safe sidewalk. "That's the Bad House. Nobody goes there!"

"Oh yes they do!" Jamie hollered, pointing. "There's somebody in 's looking at me!"

She abruptly dug in her heels and turned to face the rotting house once more. There, there he was!

Jamie blinked.

No, he was gone, the big, dark shadow man in the window!

(It was only her imagination.)

Jamie shivered, suddenly realizing she was standing on a strange sidewalk in the rapid twilight of a scarlet October evening, Rachel tugging at her saying, "Let's go home, make popcorn, and watch _The Muppet Show_ on VHS."

Easily lured away by a pig in heels sexually harassing a frog a suddenly docile Jamie allowed Rachel to lead her home, red jacket glowing in the dull, flat light of a nearby streetlight as it buzzed to life overhead.

 **Harold**

Harry jogged home tonight, only slowing down to watch some of the neighborhood kids decorate their yards and front porches with corn stalks and Jack-o-Lanterns.

"This'll keep the Boogeyman away." Teased an older boy to what Harold assumed was the boy's little sister as he set out one of the biggest pumpkins Harry had ever seen. "He EATS kindergarteners!"

Li'l sis, obviously a kindergartener, did NOT look impressed.

Harold resumed his pace, lost in thought.

Cute. The Boogeyman was obviously the town's big urban legend, the kind big kids make up to scare little kids on Halloween.

He jogged past a group of younger children playing jump rope on the sidewalk, chanting: "Black cats and goblins and broomsticks and ghosts, covens of witches with all of their hosts. You may think they scare me, You're probably right. Black cats and goblins on Halloween night. Trick or treat!"

This wasn't the condo back in L.A. Maybe tonight before dinner he could take Jamie out for a walk, and convince her to make friends with the little chanters who lived next door. He could see her on Halloween night, whooping it up with them while he and the other parents trailed behind getting to know each other.

Something Harry very badly wanted for himself and his family.

It was different here.

Slower.

You could put down roots in a place like Haddonfield.

Haddonfield was A-OK as far as Harry was concerned.

So what was Laurie's problem?


	12. Chapter 12

_October 28th, Three More Days to Go_

 **Laurie**

"Jamie, now pay attention. Halloween night you are going to have to be very caref—"

Jamie interrupted, "Everybody knows that, mommy. I am not a kindergarten baby." Laurie took a breath, looking into Jamie's eyes as her child continued in front of her, arms crossed, sneakered feet planted aggressively on the carpet, "Mrs. Lane says that we should only go to houses where we know the people, wear a costume that people can see in the dark, use a flashlight, do not run across the street without looking, and… and…" Jamie frowned, and then her face brightened, "Do not eat candy people give me until you and daddy look at it first."

Obviously Jamie knew the rules.

Too bad the rules wouldn't apply if Loomis was right and Laurie's half-brother was making a beeline for Haddonfield, and… them.

Closing her eyes, Laurie sighed, "Daddy and I can't go with you. You'll have to go trick-or-treating by yourself."

Jamie frowned, newfound assertive independence suddenly leaving her, "What about Rachel?" she asked cautiously. "Can Rachel go with me?"

"Rachel has a big girl party to go to." THIS was a flat out stinking lie: Rachel offered to take Jamie trick-or-treating for FREE the second she learned her employers had to stay and work late Halloween night. "And don't tell Uncle Mikey where you're going. Ever."

Uncle Mikey? Prickly as he could be at times, Uncle MIkey was her BEST FRIEND! How could she NOt tell? Confused, Jamie gaped up at Laurie, "But why?"

"Because I said so." Laurie's guts twisted up into knots the second the old parental standard left her mouth. She tried to soften her harshness, adding in a softer tone: "Stay in bright places, where there's lots of kids - like the fire department, the Baptist church down the street's trunk-or-treat, and the sheriff's department - they give out GREAT candy and little badges! If you're scared or uncomfortable. RUN home!"

"But mommy, WHY?" Jamie now looked scared.

"Everything will be just fine if you do as I say! " Utterly terrified herself, Laurie held out her arms to her daughter, knitting forgotten in her lap.

But what if Loomis was wrong?

Either way, she was about to throw her only lamb to the slaughter.


	13. Chapter 13

_October 28, 1963, Three More Days to Go_

 **Michael**

 _The newly revealed Center of the Universe pushed his toy jeep through the big white house on Maple Street, the only house he had ever known, listening._

 _The Center of the Universe listened a lot._

 _Listening was interesting._

 _You could learn a lot by listening._

 _Take for instance, the closed door to his mother and stepfather's bedroom._

 _They were arguing. As usual._

 _It was the way they were._

 _"...John, I really think we should do something for Michael. He's not right."_

 _That was his mother._

 _She worried a lot._

 _"Edith, for the last time, NO!"_

 _That was his step-father._

 _He yelled a lot._

 _Behind closed doors._

 _Outside of closed doors he was all smiles, handshakes and, "How ya doin' pal?" and "Call me, I can set you up with the world's greatest life insurance policy for pennies on the dollar!"_

 _"John, I read an article in Reader's Digest at the beauty parlor this morning. There was an article telling that children like Michael, they call them autistics, can be helped. The doctors interviewed in the article say they can't cure it, but they can make it easier for hi…"_

 _"God dammit, Edith! What do I keep telling you? Huh? Huh? There's not a goddam thing wrong with that boy that spanking and military school wouldn't cure - he's a big sissy who cries about nothing and it's your fault because you mollycoddle him! Anyway, doctors are expensive, and if we had him locked up like you want us to - what the Hell would my customers think? They'd leave my insurance agency in droves and we'd be poor - if I can't manage one disobedient crybaby, what business do I have managing their insurance policies?"_

 _"John, Michael's not normal. I don't care what you think, and to HELL with your customers - he needs HELP that a beating and formation drills can't fix!"_

 _There was a sharp noise, followed by a gasp._

 _And crying. Lots of crying._

 _Step-dad hit mommy a lot._

 _That's just the way of the Universe._

 _Show's over._

 _The Center of the Universe steered his jeep down the steep terrain of the front staircase bannister and into the kitchen to listen to his big sister, Judith._

 _Judith was crabby._

 _Judith didn't like the Center of the Universe._

 _She called him a freak._

 _And a creep._

 _And a retard._

 _This didn't bother the Center of the Universe._

 _He'd been called far, far worse at school._

 _She was on the phone._

 _Blah blah blah blah._

 _Judith liked boys._

 _Judith liked boys a lot._

 _Judith liked dancing with boys when mommy and step-dad weren't around._

 _The Center of the Universe cared even less about that, and steered his jeep past her as she blathered away._

 _Judith was boring._

 _Still, when she was dancing with boys behind her closed bedroom door, the Center of the Universe could do as he pleased._

 _Like set the neighbor's dog on fire._


	14. Chapter 14

_October 29th, 2 Days Until Showtime_

 **Michael**

 _It was nearly time to find Judith._

 _Tonight, he would retrieve her tombstone, bringing things closer to absolute zero._

 _He would not be stopped._

 _Not this time_

 _Because this time the Center of the Universe had been more careful, choosing wiser, planning longer._

 _The Universe would be balanced._

 _Because this time he had help._

 **Jamie**

Jamie sat on her front steps, thoughtfully eating strawberry Twizzlers. Blandy was back to being his usual big pain in the hiny.

All he could talk about was the Boogeyman and how he'd nearly escaped with his life after the two of them had an epic battle in the middle of the playground.

Using chainsaws and dynamite.

Cow poop, all Uncle Mikey did was stare at him!

(He said so.)

At least, Blandy, who smelled like cigarettes, stale Doritos, and moldy bread left her alone. All Jamie had to do was stare at him. He'd give her a funny look and walk away rubbing at his still swollen upper lip with it's pimples and lame attempt at a moustache.

Speaking of walking away, Uncle Mikey wasn't around much anymore.

Maybe he was busy?

Lonely, annoyed, and sticky with Twizzler blood, Jamie looked forward to Halloween, hoping this would all work out, just like Daddy said it would.

 **Mrs. Lane**

Something was going to happen.

She could tell.

Though it looked like business as usual, the town was holding its breath.

It had been fifteen more years.

The pattern had been established.

In the classroom, Blandy was insufferable, claiming he'd seen the Shape, the Boogyman that terrorized the town a decade and a half before ago, and that he'd had an epic fight with it.

And that Blandy had won.

A likely story - all Mrs. Lane knew was that Blandy had come squealing and covered with mud and wood chips from the playground into the classroom crying so hard that he'd had to go home early.

Blandy's mother, a waitress at the Dew Drop Inn, had NOT been happy about having to drop everything and come get her youngest. Pregnant belly pushed out like the prow of a battleship, she'd grabbed Blandly by the ear and dragged the whining delinquent outside where she'd slapped the crap out of him before tearing out of the parking lot in a cloud of rage and burnt tires in her battered avocado green El Camino with the empty beer cans rattling in the bed.

As to Mrs. Lane, she highly doubted that the Shape would show himself before the big night.

She flipped open her grade book: Jamie was doing well. Mostly Bs' with a few A's sprinkled in. Blandy would be stuck for yet another year in third grade, though.

Not her problem.

Mrs. Lane was moving to Florida.

The new teacher next year could deal with Blandy and the rut he'd dug himself into.

That is, if there was a next year.


	15. Chapter 15

_October 30, 1992_

 **Jamie**

 _"Black cats and goblins and broomsticks and ghosts, covens of witches with all of their hosts. You may think they scare me, and you're probably right. Black cats and goblins on Halloween night. Trick-or-Treat!"_

Jamie had never worn a costume outside of dance class or even carved a jack-o-lantern for real - much the less actually go out and Trick-or-Treat. But here she was, helping Daddy scoop out the biggest pumpkin she'd ever seen on the front porch.

And after that? She was going to carve a clown face into the orange fle—"Yo. Jamie."

Frowning, Jamie looked up, elbow deep in pumpkin guts.

She went cold all over.

What was trashy ol' cousin Blandy doing here?

Blandy, who lived in a drunkenly tilted doublewide surrounded by junky cars and too many dogs looked out of place in this neighborhood of neatly painted Victorians with their closely trimmed lawns and perfectly square hedges.

"This a friend of yours?" Obviously daddy couldn't see a threat unless it slapped him in the face. "That's right, you're Blandly. You sit in front of Jamie in Mrs. Lane's class!"

Or put gum in his hair so that the whole class laughed.

The steady light behind Jamie's eyes suddenly flared white hot.

She glanced past daddy and Blandy into the yard. The burning was now almost unbearable. She squinted in the golden light of late afternoon, the red ribbon holding back her hair almost blinding.

Was that a flash of blue? By the hedge?

"I'll leave you two to chat." Daddy stood up. Wiping pumpkin guts from his hands on an old towel, he walked into the house - "I need to finish getting that set of legal papers ready for tomorrow night's hearing."

Jamie stared up at Blandy.

Who wore a red baseball cap with the word "Budweiser" scrawled on it in Sharpie.

Only it was spelled "Buttwizer".

"How did you find out where I live?" Jamie edged away on her knees, keeping the monstrous, blobby field pumpkin between the two of them. Her cousin might not fall for her head-butt ambush this time.

"This's Haddonfield, 'member? Even the Boogeyman knows where you live, reeee-turrrrrd!"

The light hiding behind her eyes flashed blue for a second.

 _I remember the last time someone called me retard._

"You are the reTARD!" Jamie felt herself rising to her knees, "Uncle Mikey s-s-s-s-s-says… SAYS…"

"U-U-Uncle Mikeeeeeeey SAYS," Blandy imitated her stutter. "Who the fuck is 'Uncle Mikey', you stupid reeeeeeee-turd?" He hawked a loogie over the porch railing as Jamie recoiled from the bad word that hung in the air between them like a slap, adding. "He's comin' tomor'a night. He's gonna cach-u!"

 _The blue light urged her to stand._

 _The blue light urged her to grab Blandy by the front of his greasy jacket, the one with the smoking camel on it and the pit stains, that one that was two sizes too big._

 _The blue light urged her to push Blandy down the front steps so that he would land on his head, making a pool of blood the same color as the pretty red bird on the new concrete sidewalk where it met the freshly painted wood of the bottom step._

Half-blinded by the now black light hiding behind her own, Jamie looked Blandy in the eye for what seemed forever, remembering the red bird, flatly stating: "Not before he comes for _you."_

 **Loomis**

Dr. Loomis stepped back, staring at the trail of red dots in the Illinois road map taped to the bathroom door of his motel room.

Burglaries.

Random thefts.

Equally random assaults.

Vandalism.

Missing property - first along the I-55 corridor as reported by the police scanner on the bedside table.

Switching to I-64 a day later in St. Louis, it hid in plain sight in the small town newspaper police blotters.

He was _right._

Michael Myers was making a beeline right back to where it all had started thirty years before.  
Haddonfield, IL.

Only this time, Loomis, having sent his wife to Florida to visit her sister, would be waiting for him.

And it would end.

 **Laurie**

The entire town held its breath.

Waiting for tomorrow.

Tomorrow was the fifteenth anniversary of the last time Laurie'd seen her older half-brother. She held up a #8 knitting needle. Sighting down its gleaming steel length, she remembered how easy it had been that night to slide it into his neck, a bent wire hanger moreso.

And he got back up.

Forcing Loomis to shoot him, ripping .38 caliber-sized holes in his chest, sending him plummeting from her adoptive family's second-floor balcony, only to get up and be found hours later limping along I-65 in the direction of the Asylum in a diminishing trail of blood.

How?

Why?

Any or all of that should have killed him!

And now, a decade and a half later, after lying to her husband, Laurie was supposed to let her only child take her chances against her batshit crazy half-brother and his pale mask.

Mask.

Mask, mask, mask...

Empty black eyes, the void staring at her, no… through her— TO HELL WITH LOOMIS ORDERING HER TO STAND BACK AND LET THINGS HAPPEN!

 **Michael**

 _Michael hated everything._

 _Except Halloween._

 _Halloween was a time of shifting boundaries, the Event Horizon, the one time of the year the Center of the Universe could walk unseen among the gibbering shadows that called themselves people._

 _One year, the Center of the Universe was a clown._

 _Clowns were useful._

 _The Cosmic Axis watched Laurie, his counterbalance, his reflection, walk down a sidestreet, only to cut across someone's lawn._

 _How... erratic._

 _Always taking a longer or more inconvenient route to her office._

 _...was she trying to elude him?_

 _Game-playing aside, the Center of the Universe always knew where Laurie was, no matter how many games of cosmic tag she played with him._

 _It wouldn't matter tomorrow._

 _Tomorrow was the one day of the year when the Balance could be restored._

 _By him._

 _"Uncle Mikey", the Center of the Universe, parked his stolen car behind the silently decaying Myers residence._

 _Time to prepare._


	16. Chapter 16

_Halloween, 1963_

 **Edith**

 _Adjusting her hair, the closest a small town hairdresser could come to Jackie Kennedy's to-die-for bubblecut could get, Edith watched the big white house she'd always coveted retreat in the driver's side mirror of her husband's pristine white 1963 Cadillac sedan, her odd son, Michael, in his clown suit and mask, standing blankly on the front porch._

 _Hair arranged to her satisfaction, Edith put her immaculately white gloved hands in her lap atop her new handbag._

 _For the fat and undeniably plain daughter of the Dew Drop Inn's owner, Edith hadn't done so bad for herself._

 _In fact, it was nearly perfect._

 _She'd dropped out of the tenth grade, wanting a house and baby for herself more than a high school diploma - anything to get out of the little apartment over her father's roadhouse with her obese mother who screamed nonstop at all ten of Edith's little brothers and sisters and away from slinging hash and beer downstairs to the nonstop groping of truck drivers, soldiers, and sailors._

 _Anyway, the baby was starting to show._

 _She wasn't sure who the father was._

 _When you're desperately trying to escape, you'll take a tumble with any Tom, Dick, or Harry that comes along only to be dumped over and over again - doubly so when you tell them you're pregnant a few weeks later._

 _So instead of "doing the right thing" because, "Guess what? He's married!" you find yourself hunting for the next potential husband…_

 _...and the next._

 _...and the next._

 _...and the next._

 _David, her older brother's Army buddy had been a Godsend - tall, dark, and distant David._

 _Ralph had brought David home for the holidays during Officer Basic because he had nowhere else to go._

 _Ralph didn't like David, but he'd felt sorry for him._

 _Edith saw the gold bars on David's uniform collar and leapt at him like a starving cat would a mouse. Though an ignorant high school dropout from east of West Nowhere (aka: Haddonfield, IL), the broomstick in trousers with his flat voice and tendency to blank out at the dinner table was exactly what she needed._

 _He was easy to seduce - the beer cooler out behind the Dew Drop Inn that night was good as a motel room._

 _Three weeks later, she wrote him "the letter"._

 _They were married before he went into Intelligence training. When he shipped out for Germany a year later, she and Edith, who was blonde, pink, and blue-eyed, went with him._

 _Except for being married to David, Edith's life was perfect._

 _She tolerated David, with his distance, occasional angry outbursts followed by the occasional beating and inexplicable disgust at being touched without his permission, and taste for bland food. It was easy: the U.S. Army kept him out of her hair until ten years later, after several beating-induced miscarriages, she managed to carry Michael to full term._

 _Michael was just like his father only blanker._

 _Edith fobbed him off on ten year old Judith whenever she could, preferring the life of a career Army officer's wife and committeewoman to that of housewife, losing weight, doing something about her hair, and enjoying the comfortable status of a woman whose husband isn't at the top and isn't at the bottom - the occasional easily concealed bruise or black eye a small price for perfection._

 _After Michael came a pointless fleabag country known as Viet Nam._

 _A place that Edith, never one for geography, couldn't have pointed out on a map._

 _Deployed to this nowhere place as an advisor, David sent them all home to Haddonfield._

 _And back to the cramped child and ever expanding mother-filled apartment over the Dew Drop Inn._

 _Until John Meyers, the local insurance agent stopped by to sell her a life insurance policy for David._

 _A month later, she and the agent, John, were sleeping together regularly._

 _The news of David's death somewhere in 'Nam barely registered until again, the baby started to show._

 _Though unsure of who the father was, John, a widower who wanted to keep his status as Haddonfield, IL's top insurance agent, agreed to a quiet ceremony and a weekend in Chicago while Judith sullenly looked after four year old and undeniably odd Michael._

 _Laurie was born eight months later after they'd moved into John's beautiful white Edwardian home, followed by a nose job so that Edith's round pudding of a face was the setting for a knockoff of the presidential spouse's chiseled patrician honker._

 _Despite Michael's obvious need of being institutionalized - something John refused to allow because it would damage his career, life was perfect._

 _As for tonight, Judith would look after the now two-year-old Laurie and take Michael trick-or-treating around the neighborhood._

 _And so, basking in perfection, Edith, with her Jackie Kennedy nose, her Jackie Kennedy hair, and her pale blue Jackie Kennedy dress with matching pillbox hat and heels, accompanied John to a local Kiwanis Club-sponsored evening cocktail party exactly twenty two days from the assassination of President Kennedy._


	17. Chapter 17

_You see them on your way to other, more interesting places._

 _Towns._

 _Small towns._

 _Towns that cling to the sides of rural highways, of the Interstate._

 _Towns not worth stopping at._

 _A collection of white, weathered houses surviving a previous, more prosperous century._

 _Tractors._

 _Pickup trucks._

 _Dogs._

 _Cats._

 _A town square with shops in various states of occupation and repair surrounding a court house built during a time of past prosperity, surrounded by relics of a past half-forgotten and many days – proudly maintained by the DAR and the VFW._

 _A gas station or two._

 _A grain elevator._

 _A railway, occasionally still in use._

 _Perhaps a few doublewides in various states of repair._

 _The inevitable disreputable bar and grill on the edge of town or two._

 _A school, K-12 on the same lot, red brick, a hodge-podge of architectural styles ending somewhere in the mid 1960s._

 _All unchanging._

 _As if suspended in amber._

Nothing to see here.

 _Nothing to do._

 _The people perhaps with two, perhaps three main surnames._

 _But still, they exist, these dozing towns._

Keep driving.

 _Proud of their smallness, pop. 3,000, pop. 500, pop. 100, as if suspended in amber._

 _Holding on in the face of satellite television, cell phones, and McMansions._

 _Haddonfield, IL, was one such town suspended in amber._

Don't bother stopping.

 _The "amber" descended in 1963, in October, on the 31_ _st_ _, the town holding its breath, teetering on the edge of sleep._

 _A sleep lasting decades._


	18. Chapter 18

_Halloween, 1963_

 ** _Michael Myers, aka, "The Center of the Universe"_**

 _The Center of the Universe didn't mind taking care of his Counterbalance, which was called "Laurie"._

 _"Laurie" was a strange designator for the object that kept the Universe balanced around the Center of the Universe. If he'd thought about it at all, the Center would have flatly stated that "Counterbalance" was enough._

 _"Counterbalance" explained the wiggly, barfing object which regularly filled diapers that his parents brought home one rainy afternoon._

 _"Counterbalance"._

 _What a solid, orderly word._

 _And Michael Myers, at six years old, liked solid, orderly things even as he hated change._

 _Change was bad._

 _Change was… disruptive._

 _Judith was… disruptive._

 _Loud, obnoxious… Judith._

 _With her obnoxious Beatles._

 _With her obnoxious dancing._

 _With her obnoxious… boyfriends._

 _Judith had a lot of boyfriends._

 _Judith liked to dance with her boyfriends._

 _Behind closed doors._

 _A lot._

 _The boyfriends brought Chaos into the Myers house._

 _Michael, the Center of the Universe, hated Chaos even more than he hated change._

 _Speaking of Chaos, the dim outlines he sometimes called "mother" and "father" had left._

 _They forgot they had promised him that they would take him out trick-or-treating._

 _They went to a party, instead._

 _Which was too bad: he had picked out the correct costume, a clown._

 _The clown costume came with a mask._

 _The suit that came with the mask was all of once piece – between it and the mask, Michael wouldn't have to feel the pain of the world grinding up against him in it's attempt to eliminate him, to render him into dust so it could go its own way all directions at once._

 _Laurie, the Counterbalance, was too little to go trick-or-treating._

 _So while Judith danced with one of her boyfriends to the music of squeaky bed springs behind her closed door, the Center of the Universe went through the list his dimly noticed parental figures had left behind, a list which omitted the Center of the Universe._

 _(Something the Center of the Universe was used to.)_

 _Dear Judith:_

 _1._ _"_ _Give Laurie her bath." Check._

 _2._ _"_ _Put Laurie in her pajamas, you let her sleep in her clothes last time." Check_

 _3._ _"_ _Give Laurie her snack. Peanut butter on toast. Don't leave a mess like last time." Mess dealt with, check._

 _4._ _"_ _Read Laurie "Pat the Bunny"." Not exactly "Sgt. Rock", but the bunny was nice. Check._

 _5._ _"_ _Lights out at 8:00." (The Center of the Universe had brought all the clocks in the house to Laurie's room and stood surrounded by them, watching until all the big hands were on the 12 and the little hands were on the 8, including the ones on the clock from Judith's room. Judith was too busy dancing with tonight's boyfriend to even notice he'd taken it from her bedside table.) Check._

 _6._ _There was no six. For some reason, this bothered the Center of the Universe.  
_

 _Little Michael Myers, the weird kid at the back of the classroom who was really Center of the Universe was now supposed to go trick-or-treating. It was Halloween. That's what you DO on Halloween._

 _If he didn't go trick-or-treating, things would change._

 _Change was bad._

 _He went down to the living room to put on his mask._

 _Like his parents, the mask was missing._

 _This was ALSO bad._

 _He was SUPPOSED to wear the mask._

 _It came with the costume. The costume he had picked out at the town hardware store._

 _It would be all wrong, even with the Counterbalance sleeping upstairs._

 _To keep the Universe going, Michael would have to go out by himself._

 _But only after he found the mask._

 _Michael searched the living room. Maskless he searched the yard in the autumnal dark, the red leaves of the maples in front of the house whispering black overhead, the night air a razorblade against his bare face._

 _No luck._

 _Near panic, the Center of the Universe ran back into the house and searched the downstairs, finding a handful of missing toy soldiers and Laurie's favorite pacifier, covered in carpet fuzz._

 _Hairsuite pacifier left where he'd found it, the Center of the Universe watched Judith's latest dance partner jauntily bound down the stairs, pulling on his shirt, "See you tomorrow?" Judith's hopeful voice floated from upstairs._

 _Adjusting himself, tonight's dance partner smirked, "Yeah. Sure." and strutted out the Myers's front door without bothering to close it behind him._

 _Mask forgotten, the Center of the Universe walked around the red velveteen chair he'd stood unseen behind in the darkness._

 _The dance partner was Chaos. Judith was Chaos._

 _The Universe needed adjusting._

 _He entered the kitchen, pulled the big knife he was never, ever supposed to touch again (especially after what he did to the neighbor's barking dog with it last summer) out of the utensil drawer, and took the stairs to Judith, his older sister's room._

 _Judith was Chaos._

 _Chaos was… bad._

 _Michael found the missing mask on the threshold of Judith's room._

 _Judith's room smelled dirty, of sweat, cheap perfume, and tuna fish._

 _Michael Myers hated tuna fish._

 _Chaos reeked of tuna fish._

 _He picked up the mask, a clown with a long funny nose, and one-handedly put it on._

 _And using the big knife he was never, ever supposed to touch again after what he did to the neighbor's barking dog with it, Michael Myers adjusted the Universe even as little Laurie Myers slept across the hall in her crib behind a closed door._


End file.
